The Angry Princess and the Thief Who Stole Her Tiara
by ThatOCLady
Summary: Long before your great-grandma was born, there lived a mighty and angry Princess Teresa. A handsome thief called Patrick stole her tiara once and this is the story of how they met. Side characters include Commander of the royal forces - Kimball Cho, the Princess's bodyguard - Wayne Rigsby, and the Princess's Advisor-in-chief - Grace Rigsby. Mentalist fairytale parody. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello there and there too! This is my first _Mentalist_ fanfic but I am a long-time Jisbon shipper. This is a fairytale/ _Mentalist_ parody. I have taken many liberties with this fic. Be warned beforehand that since I spend half of my day in hell, i.e, I am a law college student who is busy to death with studies and shit, the updates on this fic will be slow. I have only written this chapter yet but I hope you will like it. Do take a moment to review. It will help me decide whether I should continue the story. Any kind of feedback is appreciated. Thanks!  
Also, this story does not bear any resemblance to _Little-Firestar84_ 's story _The princess and the thief_ (though that one is much better written than this). The plot might seem similar at first, but it is not, I assure you.

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mentalist_ or its characters.

* * *

 **The Angry Princess and the Thief Who Stole Her Tiara**

 **Chapter: 1**

Once upon a September day, there lingered the fragrance of daffodils and ripe fruits in the air. This air circulated throughout the kingdom, of which the mighty Lisbons were rulers. The scene was serene. Fragrant air, trembling tree leaves, a bright blue sky – and lo! A golden head appeared on the horizon. Slowly, slowly, the head was revealed to be of a beautiful youth, curly-haired, blue-eyed and quite fair. He wore a vest of cheap silk upon a ruffled linen shirt. As the boy came into full view, one could see as clear as the day that he was a handsome and agile young man. And when the whole procession came into view, one could see that he was being chased by soldiers of Her Royal Highness on horsebacks. This good looking scoundrel, whom you looked upon favourably for the last minute, has stolen the Princess's tiara. I hope they chase him down and quarter the son of a bitch. You see, dear reader, your humble historian is a devout admirer of Her Royal Highness, Princess Teresa of the Lisbon dynasty, and prays for eternal damnation upon whosoever instigates trouble for Her Royal Highness. For she already had enough trouble of her own. But I shan't allude to that so soon in our acquaintance. And perhaps, I might drop this fairytale jargon 'cause this ain't Disney, honey. It is the extraordinary tale of **The Angry Princess and The Thief Who Stole Her Tiara!**

Our dear scoundrel whom we have just seen rushing through a forgotten pasture is Patrick Jane. He's not secretly royalty. He's not Flynn Rider. He's a conman and thief. And he's _pretteh_ clever.  
"Where did he go? Where did he disappear to?!", the Commander-in-chief, Kimball Cho, barked, "Find him! And for hell's sake, somebody tell me you saw his face!"  
While the royal cavalry searched high and low for this cunning thief, it did not occur to them to turn their heads towards Madeline Hightower's closed-door barn. If it had, well, they would have caught him and that would have been the end of this story. But they didn't. Patrick climbed atop the roof of Hightower's abandoned barn like a cat. He actually went on all fours, the tiara hidden discreetly in his magician-esque vest, to escape being perceived. Commander Cho looked all around the pasture, simultaneously dividing his men into search teams. Patrick ducked his head lower, keeping his eye behind on the stern Commander, and _oops_. He slipped through a weakly patched hole in the roof and landed square into the barn.  
"What the hell?!"  
Patrick held the back of his head and groaned. Why hadn't there been any haystack around to cushion his landing? And oh dear, had the guards heard the roof-breaking commotion?  
"Ow", Patrick moaned and sat up.  
The cinnamon fragrance came to him first. He looked ahead and stared without knowing his mouth hung open. It was a nymph. It had to be. She was standing near a small indoor well, clutching a little chemise to hide her torso. What she couldn't hide wasn't any less exquisite. Patrick's gaze roamed over the fair, white skin, generously sprinkled with adorable freckles; those nubile legs which were perfectly shaped (with ample running, he surmised), that astonished face, and good God – those eyes! He had never hoped to see such wide, crystal-like green orbs on a real person. They belonged in paintings and fantastic dreams. The lashes fluttered once over the eyes and Patrick cursed himself for not noticing the dark brunette hair which hung about her shoulders. Were her lips truly so coral and full?  
You see, while he ogled the poor bathing girl so, Patrick's usually acute senses dulled and made him lose track of time. He was shamelessly staring for a full minute before he caught his breath again at the heaving of what he envisioned to be small pert breasts behind that rotten chemise. Patrick met the girl's bewildered gaze and gave her his most charming grin.  
"Hi..."  
 **"The fuck?!"**  
Patrick lay knocked out on the barn floor. The bathing girl had punched him smack in the face.


	2. Chapter 2

Feedback: _ScriptAngel_ and _Guest_ \- thank you for your reviews. I might have to drop this story soon though if the reviews don't pick up. _*grins wickedly at having blackmailed the readers*_

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mentalist_ or its characters.

* * *

 **THE ANGRY PRINCESS AND THE THIEF WHO STOLE HER TIARA**

 **Chapter: 2**

The crier bellowed through his lungs,  
 **"Her Royal Highness – Princess Teresa!"**  
The court bowed as their petite princess walked towards her throne, her hips swinging with her rapid movement and her mouth curved in a delectable pout. She frowned without knowing and cast a sweeping glance over her subjects. _Oh yes_. They were staring at her head. Grace was the first one to stop gawking. She consulted her parchment to announce the first affair for the day.  
"A minute, Grace", Teresa said.  
Grace hid her surprise well, bowed and took her seat again. Teresa looked at all her courtiers once more and began,  
"I know what you all are thinking. My tiara..."  
She scowled,  
"...has been stolen. I am not going to waste my time assigning blame. This incident might hamper your faith in the royal security. Some of you may see this as a sign that I truly wasn't meant to be a ruler. First of all, the tiara was in its safest place when it was stolen. Secondly, a piece of jewellery doesn't make me who I am. I have not merely inherited this kingdom, I have merited it. My ancestors have governed this land with the purest intention of serving its people. It is my job now. And the rumors going around about my stolen tiara shall soon be put to rest. Until the tiara is procured, I shall not preside over this court. Adjourned"  
The gasping and murmuring had started the moment she turned her back to them. _Piece of jewellery_ – how could she call it just a piece of jewellery? If it were only that, she wouldn't be stomping towards her chamber, angry and sullen. Grace Rigsby, the royal minister, had followed Teresa into the room.  
"Grace, I know what you are going to say. Don't"  
"Do you know what I am going to say as well?"  
Teresa turned to the door and found her Uncle Minelli standing with Rigsby. He was looking at her with that _'Girl, you a doggone fool'_ smile.  
"Sir, I..."  
"You adjourn the proceedings till your tiara is found and expect me to okay that decision?"  
She tried again,  
"Listen..."  
"No, you listen to me, Lisbon. Until you turn twenty-one next month, you're going to have to listen to me. And what I have to say is – you will return to your royal duties this very moment. Commander Cho is on the tracks of the thief. Let him do his job"  
Minelli's tone was never condescending towards her. He was her royal advisory and kin. She respected him but there was no stopping her when it came to that tiara. Teresa dropped the bomb without wasting much time,  
"I am going out to look for my tiara"  
Grace and her husband exchanged a petrified glance. Rigsby said,  
"Boss, you can't. Let Cho handle this"  
"I have full faith in Cho's abilities but I can't just sit around and be merry while my tiara is in some thief's possession. I am going"  
"Madness, Teresa, this is madness", Minelli shook his head, "You're a Princess. You can't just drop everything and leave"  
"Watch me"  
"The odds of you finding that tiara out on your own are too slim, Boss", Grace said.  
"I don't care"  
Minelli stepped forth,  
"I won't let you do this, Lisbon. You're putting your life in danger. Those infidels who want you off the throne will not hesitate to get rid of you"  
"That's why this needs to be a secret"  
Teresa assured her Uncle,  
"I can't go on without it, you know that. I'll be fine. And I need you three to hold down the fort till I come back"  
"I am coming with you"  
"No, Rigsby. I'm going solo. I have to"  
Grace said,  
"It is Wayne's job to protect you. You can't leave him behind"  
Teresa smirked,  
"I can take care of myself. Don't worry"  
Minelli warned her,  
"You are going to regret this"  
"Maybe. You'll cover for me again. No big deal"  
"And what do I tell if your suitors, Prince Walter or Prince Luther, arrive?"  
"Tell them I never wanted either of them in the first place"  
Rigsby and Minelli exited the chamber, worried and pessimistic. Teresa went to her wardrobe, not bothering to call in a maid-servant. From a secret cabinet, she produced a pair of trousers, a worn-out shirt and a riding jacket which was quite the craze in poor people fashion those days.  
"Be careful", Grace said and turned to go.  
"Grace?"  
"Yes, Boss?"  
Though she hated asking others for help, she knew she could count on her for this.  
"Look after my brothers while I'm gone?"  
"Yeah", Grace smiled, "Sure"  
As soon as Grace left, Teresa shed her royal robes and put on the stable boy costume. She wound her hair up in a bun and hid it under a green beret with a large plume. She sighed at her reflection in the mirror,  
"I look like a lesbian Peter Pan"

Once our lesbian Peter Pan got out of the palace through her frequently-used secret gate, she walked all the way into the capital. There was noise and people, and also noisy people. The caravan of gypsies, whom she considered to be the culprits, was on the other side of town. Teresa looked all around her.  
 _'Oh fuck'_  
She turned her back to the ruddy, portly figure on horseback. Thankfully, Viscount Bosco was headed towards the palace and would not be paying attention to a groom standing by a fruit-vendor's stall.  
 _'Is he gone? Yes. Thank God'_  
Sam and Teresa were childhood friends. No matter how perfect ( _hahahaha!_ ) her disguise was, Sam would have recognized her in one look.  
"Going to buy something, lad?", the vendor asked.  
Not really. But the Red Delicious looked... delicious.  
"How much for the apple?", Teresa asked.  
She paid the vendor with two coins and took a big bite from the fruit. Before she could take off from the stall and head to her destination, somebody whispered into Teresa's ear from behind.  
"I know who you are"


	3. Chapter 3

Feedback: _BaltimoreJaxs, ScriptAngel, Azucar, Jade1511_ and _Dutchie_ \- thank you for your reviews! I also thank everyone who takes the time to read and follow/favorite this story. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mentalist_ or its characters.

* * *

 **THE ANGRY PRINCESS AND THE THIEF WHO STOLE HER TIARA**

 **Chapter: 3**

Patrick Jane, our handsome scoundrel, ducked low when the girl turned abruptly to face him. Thank Odin, she wasn't throwing any punches today. She did seem bent on killing with her looks though. Those big green eyes and that gaping little pink mouth reminded Patrick why he had strolled to this side of the street in the first place. He switched on his luminous smile and said,  
"I never thanked you for yesterday. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, seeing you like that was the highlight of my... oh well"  
The girl grabbed his arm and pulled him alongside her. Patrick didn't fail to notice how she, unlike other girls their age, held his arm but did not clasp it with two of her own. That would have been one delightful experience. FYI, for the readers who aren't familiar with physical proximity, there is a good chance of a person's breasts rubbing against your arm if they hold it close between their upper motor limbs. That's your educational bit for today, my lads. Meanwhile -  
"Whoa. Easy there, woman", Patrick grinned.  
The girl had pushed him against the wall and was holding him by the collar. She glared up into his face,  
"What the hell did you just say?"  
"I said _'Whoa. Easy there_..."  
"Not that, you idiot. Back there at the fruit vendor's - what did you say?"  
"Uh, I said _'I never thanked you for yester_..."  
"Before that!"  
"Okay, okay. I think I said something like _'I know who you are'_?"  
The girl took some deep breaths and still glowered.  
"Is that so? You think you know who I am?"  
"Yes", her hold was beginning to constrict his throat, "You're the girl who was bathing in Hightower's abandoned barn. You're wearing clothes now, but I'm pretty sure it's you"  
"That's all?"  
"Yeah. What, am I supposed to guess your weight? I don't do that for free, you know"  
With what was definitely a sigh of relief, the girl let go off Patrick. He matted the creases on his crumpled shirt and stood admiring the girl's backside. Out of nowhere, a soft but heavy hammer landed horizontally on his nose. And since Thor or a carpenter wasn't around, Patrick deduced that it wasn't a hammer after all. He held his nose and opened his eyes. The girl was pointing a finger at him,  
"That was for breaking in on me yesterday"  
Damn! Yesterday's punch was an Eskimo kiss compared to this. Thankfully, this one didn't knock him out cold. Patrick had to gather his bearings by looking around though. _Shit_. The girl was leaving.

' _If that pervert recognized me, I need a better disguise'_  
Lisbon fumed and tried storming away. She had thought his unconscious form in Hightower's barn would be the last thing she would see of him. Why did he have to bump into her again anyway? Granted, he was good looking and his voice felt like warm honey on one's tongue. But she was a woman on a mission. She didn't have time for handsome street urchins or their seductive smiles. She had to find her tiara.  
"That thing you're looking for might be closer than you think, you know", the boy caught up with her.  
Lisbon stopped in her tracks and turned to him. How the hell did he...  
"What?"  
"There is a high probability of women finding things they have lost on their person or in their _boudoir_ "  
She lied,  
"I haven't lost anything"  
"Oh please", he grinned and leaned closer, "If you haven't lost something which is crucial to your existence and aren't looking for it right now, I am Britney Spears"  
Lisbon frowned,  
"That's not true. You don't know that"  
"You have adorable tells, my dear. My favorite's the involuntary pout"  
"Tells?"  
"When you are lying, your gaze becomes more concentrated and your mouth forces itself shut as soon as the words are spoken"  
"That is so not true!"  
He laughed,  
"Aha! High voice"  
Lisbon folded her arms over her chest and scrutinized him. If the scoundrel had made such curious deductions about her in their second meeting itself, she had to know him better. He could be a rebel spy for all she knew.  
"Okay. What else do you think you know about me?"  
He shook his head,  
"I am paid for my skills, lady. There is no way I'm doing a reading on you for free"  
Albeit surprised by his mild and sudden hostility, Lisbon said,  
"Fine. I'll humor you. Name your price"  
"A kiss"  
She stared, lost for words. He had said that without missing a beat. And the way his blue eyes softened and fixed themselves on her face, she knew he wasn't joking. God damn him! She was the Princess! There was no way she was going to kiss some stranger for things she already knew about herself!  
 **"GO SCREW YOURSELF!"**  
"Oh, come on", he ran after her, "Wait! That's not biologically possible!"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _ScriptAngel_ and _MerinOfTheSea_ , thank you for taking the time to review. ^_^  
I know the chapters are short and the updates are slow, but I'm really giving my best to the story. I hope you like it. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks in advance for reading. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mentalist_ or its characters.

* * *

 **THE ANGRY PRINCESS AND THE THIEF WHO STOLE HER TIARA**

 **Chapter: 4**

"Quit following me", the girl warned him.  
Patrick smiled,  
"I'm just trying to help you. Believe me – I can help you find that keepsake from your mother much faster than you alone ever will"  
She stopped walking and faced him with a forbearing expression. Patrick took a step back for his safety.  
"How did you know it was my mother's?"  
He relaxed his defensive stance and smiled like he had just met Captain Obvious.  
"You are in disguise. You are on a quest. You don't look like a treasure-seeker or someone who is attached to material things. Yet, you're going out of your way to find that certain something which clearly means the world to you. So naturally, it is a keepsake. Add to that your stoic and authoritarian demeanour of a woman who has had to grow up too soon, I deduced that your mother passed away some time back and the thing you're looking for must have belonged to her"  
The girl bit her lower lip and Patrick's fingers wiggled to pull her face to his. She didn't look too happy to admit that,  
"Okay. You're right"  
"I usually am"  
"Good for you. Goodbye"  
He was grateful to have that lovely little tush in his line of sight again but the conversation wasn't moving any forward. He genuinely wanted to help the girl. Maybe fool around with her while at that.  
"Wait. You could really use my help! How else are you going to find that thing in this huge capital?"  
"Did you just say that I need a guide?"  
"No. I implied that. What I'm saying is that you might need a footman"  
Damn, even her squinting of the eyes was adorable!  
"Someone stole that thing and you're going to have to look for it in places where you won't be welcome. I could come in handy then"  
She snorted,  
"Buddy, if we were a team, which we aren't, you wouldn't be the muscle of the pack"  
"But I would be the brains, right?"  
"Just leave me alone"  
He stopped her again.  
"Fine. You could at least tell me where you plan to look for it"  
"I could but I won't"  
"The gypsies, right?"  
Patrick grinned when her expression turned from nonchalant to dangerous. She glared at him,  
"You did not guess that from my face"  
"No, I didn't. But this gypsy tribe in town is known for its pickpockets and beautiful thieves. You are wise in being suspicious of them. So let me help"  
"How are you going to help?"  
"I know a few folks there. Well", he gave a sheepish little shrug, "Few girls. And none of them is going to be fooled by your disguise. One look at your gorgeous behind and the game's up"  
"My what?"  
"You're trying to go for the look of a fourteen year old boy and if your luminous eyes don't give you away, your butt sure will. It has that beautiful womanly curve"  
Tough and mighty as she was, the girl did blush heavily. And Patrick was tempted to deepen that faint shade of pink into a rosy one.  
"It's curious that you can so deftly point out the difference between a woman's and a fourteen year-old boy's butt. Which one have you studied more deeply?"  
Oh, a firecracker. Patrick liked this girl. Instead of engaging her in a witty repartee, he smiled.  
"Let me help you"  
She observed him head to toe for a minute, the wheels turning under that silly green hat. Patrick knew he was in for an adventure when she rolled her eyes and sighed.  
"Fine"  
"You're welcome", he extended his hand, "Patrick Jane, at your service"  
She took his hand,  
"Teresa"  
"That's a beautiful name"  
Instead of shaking her hand the way she obviously thought he would, Patrick bowed and kissed it. Teresa pulled it out of his grasp and said,  
"No funny stuff"  
His eyes twinkled with mischief,  
"Wouldn't dream of it"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: If anyone is glad to read this new chapter, you have _LouiseKurylo_ to thank. Her reviews made me so glad that I put off some much important work and wrote this longer and better update instead. Thank you. :)  
Also, the next update won't be up for another month at least. It's the end of the semester and everyone is bracing themselves because the exams are coming. Sorry about that. As consolation, check out my new one-shot _Presents for Patrick_. It's kinda cute.

Feedback: _Jade1511_ , _LouiseKurylo_ and _Guest_ \- thanks a lot for your reviews! They keep me motivated. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mentalist_ or its characters.

* * *

 **THE ANGRY PRINCESS AND THE THEIF WHO STOLE HER TIARA**

 **Chapter: 5**

Patrick stretched his arms and looked around. They had been walking for a while and Teresa was glad that so far he'd been a silent companion.  
"You didn't tell me what we're looking for"  
She knew he couldn't see her smirking.  
"I supposed you would have guessed that already"  
"Is it a family sword? A hammer of gold?"  
"You're way off the mark, pal"  
"So what is it?"  
There was no way she could have told him what it was without revealing her true identity. And he'd know if she were lying.  
"I am not telling you"  
"Why not?", he came to her side.  
"You are free to guess all you want"  
Patrick grunted in response. Teresa was glad to see him annoyed. Because when he was smiling, it certainly was a hint of mischief to come. He did have a lovely smile though.  
"Why, thank you, Teresa"  
"What for?", she frowned.  
Patrick's charming grin showed,  
"You were complimenting me in your mind right now"  
The bastard.  
"I wasn't!"  
"Your denial confirms my supposition. My smile is one of my best features, yes"  
Teresa rolled her eyes,  
"You know, you act like you could get a girl pregnant by winking at her"  
She looked at him but didn't stop walking. Patrick had turned his face to hers and was winking at her.  
"Is it working? Are you bearing my child yet? Ow! Sorry! _Our_ child. _**Oww!**_ "  
 _Shameless, insubordinate, cheeky..._  
"I've started to think that you keep punching me because you enjoy touching me"  
"Oh dream on!"  
Patrick was rubbing his sore arm while Teresa made sure they were on the right path. When she had signed the parchment permitting the gypsies to occupy the outskirts of the capital, it had said South-East. As per her bearings, they were within a mile's distance from the settlement. And stupid Patrick Jane had implied she needed a guide.  
"How are we going to do this?", he was still rubbing the arm.  
Teresa explained,  
"We'll go in. I'll try to talk to some of the suspicious looking characters. Then I can work on the information collected"  
"Eh"  
"What?", she looked at him.  
He shrugged his shoulders,  
"Nothing"  
"What, you are afraid to speak your mind now?"  
Patrick shook his head,  
"You're such a copper"  
"I'm not"  
 _Not anymore_ , she thought.  
"Your father is in the King's force, isn't he? And you were trained to be in it too? No, wait"  
She looked away when he leaned closer.  
"Was. Sorry"  
Yes, her father had been in the royal forces. And when Minelli had given up the throne, he was next in line. But then Mom died and he followed soon after. As fundamental as these facts were to her existence, Teresa wasn't fond of recounting her sad tale to her loved ones even, let alone a boy she didn't know well.  
"It isn't the King's Forces anymore", she disrupted the silence.  
Patrick only raised an eyebrow, recalled from some daydream. Teresa tried to appear nonchalant.  
"The ruler now is Princess Lisbon. They are called the Royal Forces of Princess Lisbon. Thought you should know this"  
"I know", he said, "And I am not too impressed with the royalty here"  
"Why?"  
He spoke with an air of superiority,  
"Minelli abdicated his own rightful throne and the highest authority in the land is a 20-year old princess. What could she know about running a kingdom?"  
Teresa fought a smile. Patrick might have been some kind of mind-reader, but she was so pulling one over him right now. She said,  
"I think it's nice for the kingdom to have a young and vibrant ruler"  
"Meh. I'll bet you dollars to donuts that the real power's still in Minelli's hands and she's just a silly little girl playing dress-up. Whoa!"  
He looked over at his shoulder at the tree they had just passed, then at her. Teresa gave him a smile, feeling a little better after snapping that branch in two.  
"It was in the way"  
"Yeeaah", he trailed off, still staring.

Small, colorful tents, carts filled with bonfire and rags – they were at their destination. Teresa surveyed the place from a rise, making sure there weren't any soldiers or city-dwellers around. She couldn't risk being recognized after coming so close.  
"Come on"  
Patrick pulled her back by the sleeve,  
"What are you doing?"  
"Going in"  
"Forbidden lovers, my dear, always use the backdoor"  
He pointed with his hand towards the trail leading to the back of the caravan. Teresa kept her expression neutral, pretending she didn't acknowledge this little titbit. She felt slightly, minutely bothered that Patrick knew how to make a _'forbidden lover's entrance'_ into the gypsy caravan.  
"You come here often?"  
"I have been in town for less than a month. Made some friends here last week"  
She quoted him,  
"Girls actually. Right?"  
He smiled sheepishly and led her to a small tent at the far back of the settlement. Teresa looked at the gypsies in awe. Their colorful dresses, dark hair, lithe figures and eminent facial features weren't part of the picture she had expected. Patrick whispered to her,  
"Follow my lead"  
One of the three women in the tent turned and saw them. Instead of raising the alarm for intruders, she gave them a wide smile.  
"Doing the rounds again so soon, Patrick?", she asked.  
"What could I do, Zara", he kissed her hand, "I have no power against your allurements"  
Teresa observed their flirty exchange studiously. The other two had tittered over as well, and Jane gave equal attention to each. Lisbon almost jumped when Patrick pulled her small frame into his side and introduced her to the women.  
"This is my cousin Terry"  
The tallest among the three eyed Teresa top to toe,  
"He is cute"  
Patrick looked into Teresa's eyes for a moment, holding her close, his eyes straying to her lips every other second. There wasn't much she could do in the moment to stop him or the warmth fusing in her cheeks.  
"He is, isn't he?"  
Lisbon used her inside voice to utter the foulest swear words she knew and maintained her smile. Jane's hand had slipped from her back and was now squeezing her buttocks. Thankfully, she had un-tucked her shirt and if someone happened to look at her from behind, they couldn't tell if it was a woman's, but only that a sun-tanned masculine hand was taking liberties with it.  
"Why didn't you bring him before, Patrick?", one of the gypsies cooed.  
Lisbon grit her teeth as the scoundrel's hand patted and passed over her chest, the curves of which she had shielded with ample padding. Jane was grinning,  
"He's a strapping lad, but still too young to amuse you ladies"  
"Patrick?"  
"Erica"  
Lisbon was glad for this Erica woman's entrance for Patrick's hands were now at his side.


End file.
